therapy

» untitled

"It isn't okay," I shook my head and twirled the camera's strap around the lens, over and over again, "It really isn't. I shouldn't have let my anger out on you. You didn't deserve it nor will you ever. You always help me out and what do you get in return? Nothing but a stupid burden. I'm really sorry."

"Hey, don't say that. You're my friend and friends are there for each other, no matter how prickly the hair gets on your head due to a bad case of anger. I wouldn't give you the honorary title of a friend if you weren't one," She winked and gave a warm smile.

"Do you mind giving me some unworthy wisdom?" I stuck out my bottom lip to give a puppy look, and it seemed to work as laughter spun out of her lips.

"Okay, but take it seriously," she poked my arm with a stern yet miserably-holding-it-up face. "You said pictures were deleted, right? Well, they aren't one hundred percent pictures. It's a fifty-fifty deal. It's a picture and a memory. A memory that we humans bottle up in hopes that it won't find a way to escape our cerebellum and fall into the dirt-ridden world where nightmares are more common than a dream coming true. These pictures...give these memories titles, names, labels, something that gives them a place in the world where they can easily be found with a click of a button. Well, since these pictures have been deleted, they are untitled memories, drowning away in a world where they didn't want to be labeled or found. They just wanted to be a part of your life where they aren't tagged by numbers or names; names that you can change and rename whenever you'd like. They only want to be here," she stopped and tapped my head lightly.

"They are part of your life, a memory that is untitled but not deleted. You'll never lose them, well unless you hit your head and lose that part of your brain and then you'd have to do therapy that would cost you a pretty big amount of money—" She paused and noticed my look of worry and gave a chuckle. "Anyway, I was saying that you shouldn't let this get to you. Don't you remember how these pictures looked? Or if you don't, don't you remember the feeling you had swimming inside your veins when you were on top of that mountain taking that picture? Or even inside your home? Isn't that what matters? Not how it comes out in digital print, but how the memory stays printed inside your mind. Don't lose that memory, because it's the only one that counts when it comes down to 'Are you sure you want to delete this picture?'"